Well, here it is. I did change some minor things (added missing articles here and there, changed tenses, added/removed punctuation, etc.) but the story is 99% intact. It's very post-modern; it changes perspective and tenses with reckless abandon, cares not for the the long-standing traditions of English grammar or the conventions of storytelling and generally confounds the reader with jarring changes in direction. It reads something like a song-and-dance and food obsessed Ulysses (I believe bologna was mentioned twice, pudding at least that many times and cheese quite a bit more). I took the liberty of providing a title.

The Rip-Roaring Ruckus of Dr. Renaldo Q. Rubbertree (Or, How I Lost My Mind but Found My Soul)
by Tropical Fish Keeping

My jacket was stolen by a crippled old man who looked like Edgar Allen Poe. I tried to grab it back, but fell over into a large hole of giraffes. Now I'm confused because my betta just won't understand why I'm crazy. But, it's fun to stomp on bologna sandwiches when bumblebees sting you. Now my tongue is being inflated like a balloon. A red balloon in the sky, where pies fly straight into airplanes and cause trouble for the pilots, who are younger than my socks in the wash that put a hole in the fabric of my carpet, which is scotchguarded with cheese spray.

So yesterday, I decided to clean my aunt's attic and I found a shiny, pulsating orb of light, which was floating in a box that was full of silver water and grape jelly (Welch's, of course). So I picked up my spoon and dove in to this conversation about a bunch of argyle elephants that were gray with pink toenails and hair curlers with fire-breathing trunks that ignite when you stand close to cat feet. Dogs eat simple: fresh, meaty bones topped off with red beef frosting and prune juice that smelled like deep fried bologna.

I don't know how this works, but bananas like to fly away. Feet taste like chipped nail polish and cheese doodles in a ninja's old stinky boot! Yesterday, my cactus was singing because it was raining in New Canada but stopped because it hated tornadoes. It ran away, then came back, but the tornado spun it around with Dorothy and Toto. The Wicked Witch flew around on a random potato, which was dug up from the atrociously orange carpet of orange shag that looked like my friend's cat, which was lonely because the elephant-shrew said he should sit or dance, stay or go to the ocean and find a bucket of cheese filled with maggots ready for stewing to be full to the top with fairy magic sprinkled like dust that shines like stars and moons on the ceiling in my room.

Then in the Italian restaurant the purple one with the great voice said that she wanted to buy a big sapphire that was made with elephant dung and frogs' legs and cows' brains in a blender with teriyaki sauce and peanut butter and pounded with a wooden mallet until completely flat and smashed up just like calamari with chunky crabgrass and poisoned apples that Snow White didn't even pay attention to and ate anyway because it was lunch time and I was craving big barbecue ribs with lots of pink turkey rolls and dripping giblets and barbecue sauce inside tough gizzards with macaroni and freshly sliced onions. But my brother ate a skink without a fork and danced oddly on the windowsill until he screamed like a banshee in a fox while swallowing tail and started choking and turned blue.

EMS was called, with sirens blaring and lights flashing and dogs howling. The ambulance raced down cobbled streets to the hospital, where they performed a play about parrots and penguins slipping and sliding down the hill and crashing into a big truck with naked firemen that exploded when it struck gold that's in Maine. To feel the love in the streets of Boston, where tigers hugged a bunch of freaked out women wearing extremely ugly oodles of noodles that dripped off when they ran like gobs of gold that are sparkling in the light and shine just like diamonds and pretty rubies with emerald green grass that uses a speakerphone to broadcast the gossip that was spreading like wildfire through the neighborhood by old biddies who live in old white houseboats flapping their gums to EMS people who ignored them and walked away while making plans of world domination.

Then they went to Africa for a safari and made zebra pie which was very aromatic and exquisite. And the taste of delicate spiced three bean salad does not taste as nice as coffee ice cream. I say so because I know that people enjoy to kick back with high heels while admiring their coffee ice cream, which tasted very much like coffee and also like a dog's nails because I accidentally poured coffee on my new shorts which are plaid, are too tight and look like I should be climbing out of a meerkat burrow. Meerkats scurry about like they are being chased by a large hawk with big giant needles that can punch big holes into the sand at the Sahara.

Then it started: the biggest race of the craziest, most hyperactive turtles with painted shells and painted toenails which helped them create rockets that flew into people who then died. And we were very upset with it, so we decided to randomly kill worms because we're crazy fools. So then they ate large octopus in a bucket of burnt cheese that likes to stick to kids' dirty lunchboxes that mothers have tried to clean with slime and grime before the police entered the building, arresting the hooligans. The hooligans were invisible pink unicorns in disguise that held open doors for people who are never gonna push them open like eggs and bacon and toast with toenail soup.

"Wow!" said the disbelieving salesman, who took a bite of the stale bread and he yelled "hi!" to the red nosed drunkard beside him wearing a kilt and nothing else! This scandalized all surprised women nearby, except that one who wore nothing short of a g-string that was purple with swarovski crystals. The dude fainted when he realized his betta was actually the girl he saw on TV in an ugly brown raincoat who had curly, green frizzy hair and fungus on her nose. She then took a garden hose and sprayed all the aphids off of caterpillars that were chewing and eating my prized tomatoes and burned my little pinky toe while I was blowing wand bubbles and dancing with twinkling stardust aliens while my boa constrictor wrapped around their necks and sang off-key while everyone screamed soppy, mushy songs of woe and pondered reality, which made them want to explode. It was hysterical due to the number of odd phrases sung with broken trombones and straws with pudding. Aboriginal clap sticks dancing in a mystical forest game with dragons and nerds who are spraying blue gravel in people's noses and are biting my eyelashes off with some Gorilla Glue while a sasquatch runs over a pudding factory and makes a big fool of himself shoveling it into his mouth like a gluttonous swine, only to puke a shaggy hairball made of furbies.

Then, the bus ran over a boiled haggis and I ate it for lunch. Sunday I decided to dance in place (the macarena) and ate yummy donuts glazed to perfection with frosting and worm filling. Not like Mom used to make for me, but the one that's the worst is the one that has too many sick people. All sick people who do not take their tablets and instead they drove their cars into tiger enclosures (but tigers love playing kissy face with meatballs and bolts of lightning).

Big fluffy marshmallows floated through the atmosphere up so, so very high and poked an astronaut who wasn't looking because he had a pimple that was bursting. And a piece of juicy bubble gum came out of a larger piece of a space rock, got caught in his front teeth and he exploded. The dude thought he may never see that balloon so he went to the beach and got in huge rough surf. And then he quickly found a killer whale eyeing him for a long-term relationship. So he decided, "yeah, OK whale." Then they went to Halifax, UK to eat salmon. A salmon is not the preferred first date fish. Neither is garlic (but then I decided to floss in between by toenails because I forgot I left my porch light on for thirty-six years!).

And the whale wanted to fly high in the bucket of Jell-O, swimming in unison in the Jell-O, which was lime. There were two big, giant tentacles pulsating in the sky. The scary creature ate me and I imploded on impact, yet was OK when it decided to re-digest into the ground before my eyes. There it was, pulsating like a gigantic octopus head. I stomped on, while watching bettas changing the channel to "Three Random Words," a new show to watch with this little blue x-ray magnification orb. I started to imagine kaleidoscope eyes through the sky and fellow betta alpha gamma rays.

Finally, those rays exploded into 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,00,000,000,000,000,000 pieces, electrifying my hair and forcing me to end up braiding with beads to make a colorful dreadlocked 'do. I proceeded to kick my hat into the curb and this was the end of me. Now that we have finished the story, I'm going to go eat some pie.